Here Without You
by BehindTheseWalls
Summary: An epilogue to "The Christmas Shoes". As Elijah reaches his 18th birthday, he recieves what will be the final card written to him from Ziva.


A/N: I'd like to first say thankyou for the overwhelming response to "The Christmas Shoes", to know that people have enjoyed a piece of your work and for them to take the time to actually say so is just amazing, so thankyou to everyone who read/reviewed/favourited! I never intended on doing a sequel to it, I was fairly happy that it ended where it did and I was worried that adding to it would somehow take away from the original story. However, I had a lot of people ask me to write one and if I am honest, I wasn't ready to let go of that little family unit just yet! Instead of a sequel, I am considering this an epilogue. Checking in with Tony and Elijah on Elijah's 18th birthday. I worked on many, many different types of story but this one was the one I was most happy with. I hope you enjoy it and I hope more than anything it at least lives up to The Christmas Shoes.

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><p><span>Here Without You<span>

Tony stood in the doorway and watched the light olive hands loop the dog-eared laces of a beat up pair of converse shoes across one another before pulling them tightly into a bow. He remembered buying those shoes almost two years ago, the now dull black had been vibrant and alive, the white soles had been patterned and strong unlike their now almost totally bold appearance. Time changed all things, not least of all the owner of these shoes.

Pulling himself to his feet, Elijah stood a tall and even six foot, just an inch or two shy of his father's grand stature. His glossy black hair lay closely cropped to his scalp, with just enough length to add some gel to on special occasions; this was one of those occasions. With his hair lightly spiked upwards, his smart blue jeans, plain white t-shirt and red checked shirt over the top, he looked every bit the sharp young man his parents had wanted him to become.

"Almost ready bud?" Tony asked, shrugging his long black overcoat on and buttoning the jacket closed. He hadn't actually opened the curtains yet this morning but he knew the snow had been tumbling down hard when he finally went to bed last night which meant that even if it wasn't still snowing now the atmosphere was still going to be freezing out there.

"Almost," Elijah replied, his voice thick and deep; even now, that voice caught him unawares sometimes, where had the time gone? What had happened to the baby with the high pitched cry? The little boy with the inquisitive tone? "I just need to get my jacket and gloves."

Tony nodded and wandered back down the hallway to his own bedroom. Shuffling around the bed he had yet to re-make from this morning, he pulled open her dresser drawer and looked at the lone single envelope waiting inside. It had taken him a good four years to finally sort through all of her things. He hadn't wanted to throw out any of her possessions, not least of all because they were hers, but because it felt like getting rid of her things meant getting rid of her memory which he was not ready to do. But the longer he looked at her things without her here to enjoy them, the harder it became to live with them, and eventually, with a little encouragement from his team, he started to pack things up one by one until almost everything was neatly boxed beside his bed. One Saturday morning, he and Elijah had bundled everything into the car and driven for hours out of state to donate them to charity. He couldn't see them go to waste, she wouldn't want that, but he also couldn't stand the thought that he might see someone in D.C. wearing her clothes.

He lifted the envelope from the drawer and looked at it now sitting empty. He had been watching this pile dwindle for the past few years, he always knew they were going to run out eventually but it seemed as though they had gone far quicker than he ever hoped they would. Clutching the crisp paper between his hands he ran one fingertip over the delicate loops and swirls of her handwriting. What he wouldn't give to find one of these addressed to him some day; he knew it would never happen, and for the first year or so he envied his boy for having this connection to her, and then he came to understand that his envy was unjustified. What Ziva had done had not been to torture Tony into believing he was not good enough to leave a note for, as he had spent far too long thinking. No, what she had done was to give him a reason to hang on, a reason to get through each year until he had all of the wisdom she could pass on to him and make it through the rest on his own. Tony had already had more years with Ziva than Elijah would ever manage to achieve, resenting a connection beyond the grave was selfish and he hated himself for that now more than anything else. Tony tucked the envelope inside the concealed breast pocket of his coat and closed the now empty drawer. He'd never open that drawer again now, of that he was certain.

Walking back into the hallway, he picked up a pile of cards in various sizes and coloured envelopes from the dresser and handed them over to Elijah who stood in the doorway of his room with his leather jacket zipped up tight, the collar stood on end covering the blue scarf that he'd wound around his neck. With a sideways grin just like his father's, he took the pile in his gloved hand and tucked them under his arm.

"Ready?" Elijah questioned Tony.

"Always." Tony smiled.

"Sure you want to walk it? It's a pretty long way and with all that snow, you ought to give some thought to what happens if you slip and break a hip old man!" Elijah winked.

Tony playfully slapped him across the back of the head; Gibbs had taught him far more than investigative skills that was for sure.

"Have some respect for your "old man"," Tony jibed. "I'll have you know this "old man" could run the distance without breaking so much as a sweat!"

"That a challenge?" Elijah raised one eyebrow over his deep chocolate eyes, a glint in his eye and a coy smile on his lips; Tony's heart faltered, never had he looked so much like his mother in all his life. He felt his body warm with the memories of having seen her make that face, always, always when she had to prove she was better than him, and, usually, she was right.

Regaining his composure, he responded.

"Not a chance, you have a big game to practice for, college scouts are going to be looking at you and I'm not letting you blow your knee out like I did." Tony had never been happier to see his son take to football the way he had done as a child. Elijah had proved a natural at the sport, he was fast, agile and above all else, determined. It had been Gibbs who had suggested he channel his aggression at Ziva's death into sport and football had been his vice. Elijah had no big dreams of going pro, he never even planned to play college football, but his talent meant he could get in on a scholarship and still have the chance to do the studies that mattered to him. Athletic, academic and good-looking, yes, Tony was proud to say this kid was his and that he would have the ladies queued around the block from his dorm room; not that Elijah would ever play the field that way, he knew better than that.

The walk to their destination seemed far longer than normal. It was a walk that was spent in silence for the great majority, they would tell themselves it was because they needed to concentrate on not slipping on the icy ground underfoot, and because the cold was so intense that they needed to conserve all energy they could just to be sure they made it there without losing all feeling in their limbs. However, they both knew it was because they were reflecting on the bittersweet dynamics of today. It didn't matter that the outside world was still Christmassy and magical, snow on the ground, wreaths on the doors, lights in the trees, on the streets, in shop windows, ice frosting the ground like glitter tossed into the air; it was the kind of thing storybooks depicted, only for them, all the magic had vanished the day she left them and they knew it would never come back.

As they approached the water fountain outside of the NCIS Navy Yard, both Tony and Elijah laid eyes on the feature on the opposite side of the fountain. Coated with snow caterpillars on the arms with frost glitter engrained into the wood, the bench could be seen sparkling in the dim winter sun. Wandering slowly around the fountain, Tony recalled the day he found out Vance had commissioned a bench as Ziva's memorial. At first he had been angry. A bench. She was worth so much more than a bench. After years of loyal service, teamwork and friendship, how could they sum that up into a mere bench? But then he got to thinking about the meaning behind it. It was a place they could all go to remember her, it was something everyone could see to know that she mattered. When Ziva had died he hadn't known her wishes on burial, she had tried to talk to him about it but he hadn't listened, he couldn't. Listening meant accepting and he was never going to be ready for that. Ducky had suggested sending her body home to Israel, Gibbs had said D.C. was her home now. McGee had suggested cremation and Abby had been too emotional to suggest anything much at all. In the end, it was Tony himself who had decided to cremate and scatter her ashes. She had been caged by rules and regulations for so long he needed her to be free in death. Just a few weeks after her passing, the team had taken a drive to Sandy Point State Park and set her free over the water. After that, time seemed to all melt together until there seemed to be nothing to separate the days from the nights. In some ways he preferred that. Back then he had felt numb; he had felt nothing at all. Things started to hurt when they came back to life, and hurt was all he had been feeling since the numbness wore away.

It took almost a year before the bench was finally completed, a year that seemed way to long for both Tony and Elijah. But at the unveiling of the bench, they finally understood why. Gibbs had told Vance that he would make the bench, that he wanted to honour Ziva in a more personal way. He had worked every single night on perfecting that bench, sawing, carving, sanding; what he had created was nothing short of perfect. A large bench that could easily seat three or four people, with beautifully hand carved roses and vines to create the legs, a similar pattern carved into the back support. Each foot of the bench was formed of four carved wooden leaves, each blossoming outward, opening up to the winding vines and flowers that adorned it on the way up. Screwed into the centre on the back support was a shiny brass plaque that read "In Loving Memory of Ziva David, a dedicated partner, friend, team mate, colleague and mother. Loved and missed every single day. Forever in our hearts." Tony had been breath taken when he first laid eyes on it. He had felt crystal liquid fill his eyes but he held it back well. He had no words to thank Gibbs for the care and beauty he had put into this piece, but Gibbs didn't need any, he knew, he could see it all over Tony's face. For the longest time, he had avoided the bench. He loved it, but it only stood to remind him of what he had lost. It was only when Elijah's birthday had come around and the boy had told him he wanted Ziva to hear him read his birthday cards like she always did, that the two of them decided the bench would be the perfect place for such a task. It had become tradition from then on.

Brushing the snow from the wood Tony looked over to Elijah and grinned.

"Guess we should have thought this through." He laughed.

Elijah shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out two plastic bags adorned with supermarket logos.

"Figured you wouldn't learn after last years' wet pant fiasco!" He grinned helping to sweep the excess snow from the bench before laying the bags on the wood to sit on. They may not keep them warm but at least they'd keep them dry.

"You're a smart boy," Tony nodded. "You must be mine."

Elijah rolled his eyes and took his seat on top of the plastic bag with Tony following suit, awed by yet another reminder of how much like his mother Elijah really was. Tony watched Elijah lay his pile of cards on top of his legs and look around the deserted area as though searching for someone or something. He turned back and looked at Tony and shrugged. Tony couldn't help but grin, it seemed his once out-going boy had grown shy as the years had passed, but he needn't have been, not for this.

"Your son is embarrassed to talk out loud to you Ziva!" Tony laughed. "He definitely didn't get that from me, so I'm gonna blame you for that one!"

"Dad!" Elijah exclaimed elbowing his father in the ribs. "I'm not embarrassed Mom, I swear!" he admitted.

"So get to it kid, read her your cards! She might be gone but she hasn't got all day! Plus, you're young but my arthritic knee plays up in the cold!" Tony winked, playing on the hip quip Elijah had made earlier.

"Alright, fine, fine." Elijah smiled. "If you're listening Mom, it's my 18th birthday today." He smiled. "I wish you were here for it, but I've wished that every year and it never happened, I guess I shouldn't waste anymore candle wishes on that one, but between you and me, it'll be the wish I make on every candle and every shooting star for the rest of my life."

Tony felt his heart ache a little, he hadn't wished on a birthday candle since he was about 7 years old, but on his first birthday after Ziva's death, Elijah had spent his pocket money on a cupcake from the local bakery. He'd lit a candle and pushed it into the frosting and for the first time since he was 7, Tony had made a wish when blowing it out. His wish had been exactly what Elijah had wished for, to have Ziva back with him.

"So, card number one," Elijah tore into the blue envelope and pulled out a holographic foil card with a huge 18 printed on the front. "To Elijah, have a great day; put this towards your college computer fund, Tim." Sweet, Uncle McGee gave me a hundred dollars!" Elijah beamed holding up a cheque signed by McGee.

"Wow, McGenerous didn't even buy me a drink on my birthday and you get a hundred bucks! I guess it's clear who the favourite is!" Tony faked offense.

Elijah set his card down and picked up the next one. Sliding his finger beneath the envelope, he turned to Tony.

"I can guess who this is from without even opening it!" He laughed, pointing to the "fingerprint artwork" adorned over the back of the envelope. The envelope was well padded and Elijah was already excited to see what weird and wonderful design Abby had festooned the card with this year. Pulling the white card into the air Elijah laughed as Tony leant over to see what was on it. Abby had drawn a cartoon image of Elijah wearing safety goggles and ear defenders, in his hand he was wielding a 9mm gun which had recoiled from a shot. Attached to the card was a spent slug working its way towards the suspect silhouette in the background which already had multiple shots blown through it, perfectly creating the shape of a 1 and an 8. Elijah opened the card and read the words aloud, a smile plastered across his face.

"To Eli, SAFETY FIRST! Guns are not toys! In all seriousness, happy 18th birthday, I literally cannot believe it's been 18 years, well, I mean, I can because I lived them and in that time I have consumed approximately 13,148 CafPows, give or take a few because there was that time I didn't have any for a week when I tried to quit, and then I don't have any on Christmas because the store is closed and I digress… I still remember that first day I came to see you in the hospital, you were so tiny in your mom's arms, she was so happy to have you and I know she'd be so proud to call you her son if she was still here. Live it up kid, these are the best years, and your dad is just itching to buy you that first legal drink when you hit 21! Love, Abby xxx"

"After all these years of knowing her, I _still_ can't get over the fact that she writes the way she talks!" Tony grinned.

"This is the coolest card ever!" Elijah exclaimed. "It's going on my wall."

For the next ten minutes or so Elijah continued to open and read all of the cards he had received. A blue sports car one from Gibbs that simply read "Welcome to adulthood, make us proud. Gibbs.", a card shaped like a pint of beer from Tony's father who clearly had no idea what age his grandson was, and then various cards from friends, neighbours and people from NCIS who had seen Elijah grow up in front of them. Elijah had read each and every comment, from the witty to the private jokes, to the sweet sentiments and the plain To you, from Me style comments. He was so different to most kids his age who only cared about the money they hoped would be inside a card.

Elijah set the last card down and looked to his dad. He knew he had one from Ziva still to come, his first card had told him he would get one each year until he was 18, he'd wanted to read them all so badly when he found out about them, he'd gotten angry when Tony had refused to let him, it was only as each year passed and he got to feel like she was still a part of his life that he truly appreciated his father's stubbornness at relenting. He'd never asked for the cards since that second year, he always waited patiently, knowing Tony was just as anxious to know what was written as he was himself. Watching his father reach into the inside breast pocket of his jacket, Elijah felt his heart begin to race.

"This is it kid, the last one," Tony explained, pulling the pristine envelope from his jacket and handing it over to his son. He kept his hand on it as Elijah intercepted it into his own grip. "After this one, we are totally alone, just you and me," he looked into his son's deep chocolate eyes and held his gaze for a moment. "How do you feel about that?" He felt like the shrink Vance had forced him to see after he had beaten a suspect down during an interview just months after Ziva's death. He hated that guy and he hated discussing his feelings about his loss even more, but mostly he hated to admit that it helped.

Elijah looked up at Tony, his lips pursed, and he shrugged. Tony let go of the envelope and watched as Elijah ran his fingertips over his name the same way he had done that morning. Like his father, Elijah knew this day was approaching; the day when the connection to his mother truly ran out, when he was left without anything new to look forward to. He loved getting these cards each year; it was a little nugget of remembrance that kept her alive for him. He had forgotten so many things about her as time ticked by, he had forgotten her scent, her voice, her touch, but that handwriting, seeing it every year brought him closer to her. It brought back memories; the melodic sound of her laugh, the sparkle in her eyes when she smiled, the ghost of her lips on his forehead when she kissed him goodnight, memories he had long since forgotten, memories he had buried to the depths of his mind to try and stop the pain that seared him each time he thought about her for too long.

"I guess we've always known this day was coming," Elijah began.  
>"Doesn't mean you have to like it." Tony cut him off.<p>

Elijah sighed with a smile.

"I guess not."

Tony narrowed his eyebrows as he watched the way Elijah devoured every single inch of that envelope with his eyes; he understood that feeling, knowing he wanted more than anything to see what was waiting for him inside but also fearing that what he had hyped it up to be would be less fulfilling than how it turned out.

"You know, you don't have to read this one aloud if you don't want to. You can take it home and open it there if you'd rather. I won't mind."

Elijah shook his head and turned the envelope over in his hands, sliding his thumb beneath the seal and tearing it open in one swift motion.

"No, these mean as much to you as they do to me, I've never kept a secret from you and I'm not about to start now." He slipped the card from the paper casing and turned it over, smiling as he took in the handmade design crafted on the front. A blue and green colour scheme adorned the card, several balloons cut out with small pieces of wire coiled around as strings, the word "son" and "18" were beautifully scripted in thick silver pen in her own handwriting, and set in the centre, in a square cut blue frame was a picture of Ziva cradling the new born Elijah in the hospital, looking down on him with a look of upmost pride and adoration, a smile on her face and a single finger touched to his tiny cheek. The picture made Elijah's heart skip a beat, but it warmed him to know how much she put into this, especially when he knew just how sick she was back then. Tony, on the other hand, felt tears form behind his eyes, he remembered taking that picture like it was just yesterday, eighteen years had gone by so quickly, and yet at the same time, the last 8 of them had seemingly never ended.

"I remember that day so well; it's hard to believe it's been 18 years." Tony mused. Elijah turned and looked at him as though willing him to continue the story. He loved to hear tales of the life Tony and Ziva had shared together; he knew that no matter how long he lived, he would never get to hear them all. "Most people stay in the hospital a few days, not your mother," Tony explained. "She was itching to get home. Once you'd been given the all clear she was done, ready to go. She got you all dressed up and then wrapped in a blanket, you had a hat pulled over your head and I'm fairly certain she had mittens on you too! I mean seriously, I have no clue how you didn't get heat stroke!" Elijah laughed lightly. "So usually they insist on you taking a wheelchair down to the exit but your mother wasn't standing for that, I asked her if she wanted me to bring the car around and then come up and wheel her out and she turned to me and said, "I am a new mother Tony, not an invalid! I have two legs that I can use for walking!"". Tony had adopted his best Ziva accent and both he and Elijah laughed loud and vocally; Elijah could just see it happening! "So, she carries you down to the door with her arm out like a damn shield in case someone got too close, and then we get to the doorway and she stops dead in her tracks."

Elijah furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why?"

Tony held up a finger before continuing.

"Snow." He smiled. "There was probably about this much on the ground," he pointed to the well-covered ground underfoot. "There were a few flakes floating around in the air but nothing major and she's just staring at it, bewildered. I remember turning to her and asking what was wrong. She said she couldn't take you outside in the snow in case she slipped and dropped you!" Tony laughed hard. "I mean, you had enough layers on, I swear to you, you would have bounced if she had!" That got another laugh out of Elijah, one which set Tony off again, leaving them in a cycle of continuous laughter for a few minutes.

When they had finally calmed down again, Tony continued. "So I went all the way back upstairs, found the damn chair and wheeled her around to the car as she clutched on to you! Honestly, that woman used to drive me insane sometimes," Tony admitted with a smile. "But she knew what she was doing, she was looking out for you from day one." He added, seriously.

Elijah opened the card and looked at the beautiful black handwriting that covered the entirety of the card. He had been praying she'd write something long this time, some words that hopefully would carry him through the rest of his life even without her in it. Drawing a deep breath, he opened his mouth and began to read aloud.

_My dear Elijah, I cannot believe 18 years has passed, it seems just a moment ago that I told your father I was pregnant and watched the look of total horror cross his face. He was scared. So was I if I am honest. But he was the greatest man I could ever have asked to father my child. I miss you Elijah, more than you will ever know. I wonder what you look like now, how much you have changed since I last saw you. I imagine you look like your dad, I imagine you have his mannerisms, his sideways grin, his humour, the way you always did have. I wish more than anything that I could be there with you today; I will find a way to do so, even if you do not know it, I will be watching you always, these cards had to come to an end but my love for you, my watching over you never will. Soon you will be heading off to college, I know you will be thinking of your dad, wondering if he will cope with you gone too, the short answer is no, he will be a wreck, at least for a while. But that is not your concern. He is a tough man and he will get by, do not let guilt make up your mind on something you have worked so hard for. Go to college; make me proud, though you know everything you do always will. I can let you go now, I could have let you go a long time ago, but I was not ready. You have always been ready. Wise beyond your years, my little Elijah, an old soul in a young body. You are a man now, officially, and I know you will have made it this far as a great man. It is your father that is the reason for that. Be sure to carry that forward in whatever it is you do. Live your life as free as you can, always say yes to every new opportunity and let love consume you because, and I promise you this, when you find that one person worth dying for, nothing else will matter. __Someday, someone will walk into your life and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else, and all the pain you have ever experienced will make that seem worthwhile, I found that with your dad, you deserve to find that someday too. Know that I love you with all that I am, and maybe, just maybe, you will save a moment in time to think of me. I love you, my baby boy, I always have and I always will. Mom x. _

Elijah stopped reading and bowed his head, almost ashamed to admit that his mother's words had brought tears to his eyes. He had managed to keep his voice from cracking when he was reading but without something to concentrate on, it was a harder task than he imagined. It wasn't the words per se, it was more that this moment on would mark the absence of any more of her words, and he still wasn't ready for that, as much as he thought he was. Leaning forward, he let his body shake as silent sobs overcame him. Tony wiped a single tear from his own cheek with the heel of his hand and gently patted Elijah's back. He understood. There wasn't anything he could say to make this moment any less bittersweet, he just had to wait.

Elijah recovered his composure in only a few seconds. He always had been better equipped to cope with things than his father; Tony put that all down to Ziva. He smiled weakly at his son as Elijah looked over to him and started to laugh. The sound brought out Tony's own laughter as they both shared the same feelings of loss, loneliness and accomplishment that they had made it this far.

"What did you think?" Elijah asked when he had finally managed to regain control of his laughter and take a deep breath.

"It's nice, very Ziva." Tony smiled.

Elijah nodded in agreement.

"Her grasp of the English language might have been ropey in places but Mom really does… did have a way with words." Elijah corrected. He pursed his lips and looked down at the front of the card, running a finger over the photo of him and his mother attached to it. "It's still not enough though is it?" He sighed.

Tony shook his head. "Nothing ever will be. We just have to accept that."

For a few moments the two of them sat in silence, staring out in quiet contemplation, watching the light dance over the soft snow. To the world looking on, they were two men enjoying the Christmas atmosphere, but the Christmas atmosphere had not mattered to them in eight years and it wasn't about to start now.

Elijah turned to Tony with a grin plastered on his face.

"Does it bother you that she knows you so well even now she's gone?"

Tony furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

Elijah raised one of his own as if to suggest his father should know exactly what he was talking about.

"College." He explained. "She's right; you will be a total wreck without me!" He laughed.

Tony widened his eyes and mouth in mock offense.

"I won't!" he objected. "I am perfectly capable of getting on with life when you are away at college."

Elijah pursed his lips and simply looked at him, exactly the same way Ziva would have looked at him had she been there. After a few seconds engaging in a staring contest, Tony backed down.

"Fine." He admitted. "Fine. I'll miss you, sure, but a wreck is maybe a little too far. I'll be fine, I promise." He held up his hands as though exposing the truth.

Elijah's face changed from playful to serious.

"Like you were fine after Mom died?" Elijah asked.

Tony felt his heart sink, and his face drop. About a year after Ziva's death he had found himself in a downward spiral, he thought he had managed to protect Elijah from that but obviously his son was more clued in than he thought. Guilt ate at him constantly for what he did, but a pang of utter shame now gnawed at his heart for having hurt his son.

The months immediately following the one year anniversary of Ziva's passing had been the worst of Tony's life. Even harder than having to sit and watch her die. That first year had passed in a blur, but when it reached that anniversary milestone Tony finally accepted that she was never coming back. It was anger that he felt mostly. Anger toward her for leaving, towards himself for feeling that way, towards the medics who hadn't saved her, and towards the sick bastards who had stolen her from him. With that much hatred inside of him he had to find a way to channel it, and channel it he did, into the only thing he knew he was good at. Picking up a new woman almost every other night at a bar and then taking her back to her place, never his, because subconsciously he knew no other woman could go there. Meaningless, empty sex; it became his vice, he had reverted back to the Tony DiNozzo he had once been, the one he was before she had changed him, before she had made him want to change, want to be a better person. He wasn't sure what the point of his antics were, he reasoned that he was trying to erase her from his memory, trying to forget just how wonderful his life had been with her, because if he forgot, then he could no longer hurt. Only, every single time he went back to that apartment he saw her in the face of his son, and, what he could only class as betrayal to her, only ceased to cause that ache inside of him to grow. It was a vicious cycle he knew he had to break, but self-destruction was so much easier than self-preservation when you were hurting. He was never looking for love, that hurt too much, besides, he'd never find one as great as hers so what was the point in trying? No, all he wanted was to feel something, anything, a connection at the most basic and primal level, and sex was exactly that. He had been empty for over a year, she had left him that way with her absence, but gradually that gaping void started to fill. It'd never be gone, she had taken a piece of him that he would never get back, but humans cannot tolerate emptiness for long, and his string of women sought to make up for that.

Looking back now, if he could take it all back he would, he hated himself for it, he had hated himself at the time too but it was easier to be objective when the pain was less raw. He looked at that the way an addict looked at lapses in recovery, he had fallen off the wagon, big style, but he had seen what it was doing to him and actively rectified the situation. Since then he hadn't been with any other woman. He had made Ziva a promise that he would move on, someday, and maybe now he could start to think about that; but he wanted to be sure that he felt right about whoever that person was. He knew finding someone that was half the person Ziva was would be a tall order, but she had been right, he had the rest of his life ahead of him, and with Elijah growing up and moving on, he'd have to think about doing that too. Perhaps not just yet, but sometime in the not too distant future.

Tony sighed and sheepishly looked at his son.

"Elijah, I…"

"It's ok Dad." Elijah nodded. He didn't need an explanation; he just needed to know that if he were to go that he wouldn't leave a man more broken than he had already been.

"No," Tony admitted. "It's not ok, I thought I had kept all of that away from you but obviously I was blind to my own actions back then. What happened, it was never about trying to get over your mother, it was just about feeling wanted. If… _when_ you go off to college, I promise you I will still be the same man I am now, you going is your choice, it's for something amazing, something that I want so much for you to experience, something your mother would have wanted and something that would make us both so proud. You don't have to worry about your old man, I'll be fine. If needs be I can move in with McGee, we both know he's never going to find anyone!" The both of them laughed at McGee's expense before their eyes met and seriousness resumed. "I want you to go." Tony encouraged.

Elijah nodded, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Besides, it's months off yet, I have some time to adjust, to plan out the gym I'm gonna turn your room into!" Tony laughed.

"Ha! You'd have a heart attack after two minutes on a treadmill!" Elijah jeered.

"Wanna bet? I will race you _right now!_" Tony goaded, ignoring his earlier reasoning against Elijah running in the snow.

Elijah shook his head.

"It's ok, I'd hate to see you sulk when you lose." He grinned.

Tony narrowed his eyes, and collected up all of Elijah's cards, playfully smacking them over his sons' head, before handing them to the boy to zip inside his jacket.

For a few more moments they sat in silence before Tony clapped a hand to Elijah's back.

"Shall we head back? I have an awesome present for you." He winked.

"Oh yeah?" Elijah asked, surprised. "What is it?"

"You'll have to wait and see."

Elijah jumped to his feet and rubbed his cold hands together in the chilled breeze.

"Let's go then." He said cocking his head to one side and indicating the direction they needed to head back in.

Tony stood to his own feet and took a deep icy breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs and bring a freshness to him that he had never experienced before. It was almost like a release, like somehow, reaching this milestone was allowing him to let Ziva go. He'd never tell Elijah that, but he knew she was there that day, that she was giving him her blessing to move on with life, the way Elijah was about to embark on his own.

"Happy birthday, kid." Tony smiled.

This time it was Elijah who clapped a hand on his father's back with a smile.

"See you at home!" Tony suddenly exclaimed, setting off sprinting with long strides in the snow. "Come on slow coach, keep up!" he called back, a huge grin spreading across his already reddening face as he rounded the other side of the frozen fountain, taking a light stumble but regaining composure in the snow.

Elijah grinned but rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for the card Mom. I hope you're happy, wherever you are." He spoke softly before taking a deep breath and sprinting off after Tony.

A light gust of wind blew around the fountain and an envelope fluttered from the bench over into the iced water of the fountain, landing face up, absorbing the moisture. On the front was Ziva's elegant script forming the name "Elijah".


End file.
